


the 436 kiss

by youheldyourbreath



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-26 15:03:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12560036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youheldyourbreath/pseuds/youheldyourbreath
Summary: Mike and El have 435 kisses that are short, sweet and perfunctory. Kiss 436 is not that kind of embrace.and every kiss after.





	1. hopper

Their first kiss is stolen between chocolate pudding and defeating demogorgans. It is as fleeting and sweet as the moment.

After, he doesn’t see her again for almost a year. 

Their second kiss is on the dance floor at the Snow Ball, a full circle moment where promises are kept and kisses are newly wondrous and magical. 

Their kisses after the Snow Ball are all short and perfunctory, like a means of greeting or farewell or even a kiss to reaffirm that they are both alive and real. Those ones happen around D&D tables or in the back of Steve’s car on the way to school or at the arcade. They are too young for kisses to be anything more than the briefest pressing of lips, much to Hopper’s relief, until, suddenly, they aren’t. 

Sometime after fifteen the room charges and kisses begin to linger. When Mike asks his friends what that means Dustin wisely goes on about chemistry, electricity in the air, or some shit and Mike knows that the flirtation between him and El is changing. He knows when he looks at her now what the drop in his stomach means and it’s equal parts exhilarating and terrifying.

At fourteen, El starts High School with all of her friends, but she’s spent so many years in a lab being poked and prodded at that Eleven knows as little about being normal as she does math. She’s never fully indoctrinated into normal school life at Hawkins. The other kids find it strange that Sheriff Hopper miraculously has a daughter all of the sudden and tease her about her nose bleeds. It makes Mike furious. El is used to people staring and most days El does her own thing, it is easy to ignore mouth breathers, but some days the sneers are too sharp and the whispers are like knives to her self confidence and high school makes El retreat back to her cabin in the woods.

It is safe there. No one teases her about being different. 

And it is in that cabin that El and Mike have their 436 kiss and the first one that is more than just a delicate caress. 

“El?” Mike opens the door to the cabin, looking about wildly for her. There is always a part of him that is afraid that one day she will disappear and leave forever. “El?” He says louder.

He hears the sniffle coming from her bedroom and he gingerly closes the door behind him, squeezing his eyes shut until he hears the click of the lock. His feet pad across the dusty floor and he knocks three times. “El?” He tries again. 

Her loose, wild curls flop out of her eyes when she looks up at the door to see him there. She has no shame about emotion, he knows the laboratory never minded her outbursts, mostly because they ignored her. So, she is always graphing how she feels to the world at large. It is always prickling under the surface of her skin, clear enough for everyone to see. “Mike?” She whispers. 

“Hey,” he sits on the bed next to her and tugs her into his arms, “Hey, what happened?”

She throws her arms around his willowy shoulders and squeezes him, “Max wasn’t in school today.”

He rubs soothing circles up and down her back, “It’s okay. She was probably sick.”

“No,” El shakes her head, “No. The other girls...they’re mean when Max isn’t around.”

Mike untangles himself from their hug so he can look in her eyes. He offers her a weak smile and brushes the tears away, “Well, those girls are stupid.”

“Girls are not stupid,” El pipes up. “They’re just mean.”

“Sorry?” he raises his eyebrow, “I didn’t know it mattered.”

She pins him with her serious eyes, “It matters.”

“Okay,” he relents and knocks a strand of hair behind El’s ear. She nuzzles her face into his hand and he feels that charge, again. The one Dustin rambled about. 

It starts familiar enough— Mike leans forward and nudges a kiss to El’s lips. They hover there, mouths pushed against each other with no movement, and, then, Mike puts his shaky hands on either side of her face and makes the conscious choice not to pull away. El gasps and her open mouth sends feeling right down to his ill-prepared, teenage jeans. 

Instead of pulling away in embarrassment, he moves his mouth against the gasp in a maneuver he has spent years seeing the older kids perfect. It’s clunky and unpracticed, their kissing, but as she starts to lean into this new kind of kiss it becomes easier and more insistent. 

She anchors his face in her hands and Mike slides his own down to the small of her back. She is so much smaller than him, he thinks, keeping her tucked safely in his arms as their mouths learn each other. 

El makes the slightest, softest noise and Mike tips them backward, his enthusiasm scrambling his brain. When her back hits her bed the springs bounce at the foreign weight of two teenagers instead of one. Mike feels her curious fingers card through his hair and the gesture goes straight to his heart and radiates warmth all of the way to his finger tips. “El,” he whispers against her pliant mouth.

“Mike,” she sighs in that longing way she always says his name. Even after all of these years she still says his name like she cherishes it. 

He lifts his head up enough that their lips part. Mike wants to kiss her more, to explore the raging fire that is starting to lick at his blood, but fear is more oppressive than wanting and he’s afraid. This moment is new and shiny and heady and dangerous. He knows what moments like this lead to and he’s not ready. 

“El,” he says again, brushing some curls off of her face and on to her pillow, “We should stop.”

Her eyebrows scrunch, “Why stop?”

“Because,” he searches for an answer that doesn’t reveal how scared he is about the prospect of indulging in more than a kiss. “Because,” he kisses her nose and her whole face transforms into a brilliant smile, “because I like how things are.” Her smile gives way to her confusion so he proceeds, “Like, El, are you even ready to have sex?”

“No she is not,” a second, gruffer voice answers for her. Mike’s spine straightens and his eyes blow wide open. He is painfully aware of how this looks with his body wedged over El’s and her fingers tangled in his hair, or, at least, how this will look to Sheriff Hopper. 

“Hopper,” Mike swallows, scrambling off of the Sheriff’s daughter as quickly as he can. “Sir, this is not-“

Hopper grabs Mike by the scruff of his shirt, “Save it, Wheeler. What do you have to say for yourself, kid?”

The Sheriff looks beyond Mike to his daughter and El tilts her chin up defiantly, “Not sorry.”

“Oh, you’re not sorry?” Hopper pushes Mike out of the way. “This is my house, which means my rules. And one of those rules is you’re not allowed to...to...get up to no good with your boyfriend.”

Mike likes how blunt El is, from the moment they met in the forest on that stormy night El had been overtly straightforward with him. Sometimes it was shocking, but mostly Mike liked how he always knew what El was thinking and how she was feeling. It made navigating his first relationship easier than passive aggressive comments and icy silences, which felt like half of the high school couples he saw everyday in Hawkins. Yet, there were times her blunt attitude was unwelcome, especially when she said, “It is good. That’s the point of kissing.”

Mike wheezes. Hopper’s face drains of all color, “Don’t. Don’t say that kind of stuff to me.”

“I like kissing Mike,” El brushes a curl out of her eyes, “Mike likes kissing me. That’s not bad.”

“I don’t wanna hear this,” Hopper mumbles as his eyes stare up at the ceiling for some reprieve from his mounting embarrassment. 

“You asked,” El climbs off of the bed and crosses in front of Hopper to take Mike’s hand. Mike tenses but he squeezes their fingers when they interlock, the action more of a habit now than a conscious gesture. 

Hopper glances between the two teenagers and groaned, “You two aren’t...you know.”

“No!” Mike is quick to say. “No, sir. Just kissing. I’m fine with kissing. Kissing is great, actually.”

“That’s enough,” Hopper barks, “Spare me the details.”

It takes Mike five days of awkward encounters and avoiding her eye in school to kiss Eleven again. Their 437th kiss reminds him a lot of their second kiss on the dance floor at the Snow Ball.

Kiss number 629 is nothing like the Snow Ball. And, luckily, during that kiss they aren’t interrupted.


	2. dustin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dustin happens upon Mike and Eleven this time and she can't bring herself to mind. She's too happy.

Jane “Eleven” Hopper, for better or for worse, was cursed with tangled, thick curls. The first twelve years of her life she had never had to deal with her hair, Hawkins’ lab shaved it away and cut away all of the maintenance, but now that the lab was closed and her life had been granted to her without conditions, her hair kissed just past her shoulders and she now to had to juggle with giving attention to her appearance that she had never given to it before. 

Well, it was not just her grown-out hair that made her consider her looks a little more. It was her new freedom coupled with Mike Wheeler. He looked at her every day like she was the best thing in the whole world—messy hair or no—but she cared about looking pretty now. Jane couldn’t help it. She wanted to earn the stars in his eyes. 

Whenever she fussed with her tangled hair he would draw her hands away from her head and kiss her fingers. “You look beautiful,” he would hum and, for the minute, she would believe him. Until she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror and saw the birds nest of curls piled on top of her head. 

“I want to shave it off,” she says breathlessly during one of their rushed makeout sessions behind the school gym. 

Mike’s dark eyes struggle to clear and concentrate, “What?”

She repeats, “I want to shave it off. My hair.” 

“Um,” he runs his hand down the smooth expanse of her arm, “Okay?” Jane’s stomach flooded with disappointment. She did want to cut off all of her hair, it was a hassle, but she also wanted him to fight for her hair. Like a symbol of her beauty. She wanted him to think her hair was pretty and say it, too. Jane tried not to look dejected. Mike raised an eyebrow, “Do you not want to cut off your hair?” 

She wordlessly shrugs. 

He presses, “El, I’m floundering here.” 

“Don’t you think hair is pretty?” she asks. 

As if he can sense her need for reassuring contact, he tucks some of her hair behind her ear and lets his hand linger on her cheek, “Of course. But that’s because you’re pretty. And your hair is a part of you.” 

She flushes, hiding a smile into the hand that is lamely holding her cheek. He grins back. It is so easy like this—the sweet, fond affection radiating between the two of them—and it makes it nearly impossible to wallow in self-pity around Mike. He makes her radiate pure, distilled sunshine. Whatever darkness she is capable of, and Jane knows her capacity for darkness is strong, Mike Wheeler also brings out such warmth and light. 

There is nothing about this boy that isn’t infinitely good. 

“Still?” she mumbles against the palm of his hand. 

He nods, madly, “Always.” 

He gets a kiss for the way he makes her chest open and chant his name. Mike does not hesitate to envelope her back in his arms for every kiss she grants him. She knows he thinks they have lost a whole year of their lives between 1983 and 1984 and he doesn’t want to ever take a minute of their time together for granted again. It makes her feel worshipped. It makes her heart tip over into a dangerous place that could be love. 

It is 1987 and she still feels the same maddening way she did about Mike from their first kiss. This is the sort of epic love that Hopper used to read to her about in that dank, drafty cabin that had become her home for nearly two years. 

Her hands fist in his hair and Mike fits her body firmly against the concrete wall of the back of Hawkins’ High gymnasium. Any moment, she thinks, they will have to untangle themselves from each other and wander back into the faceless crowd of the high school to suffer the rest of the school day. But now, oh now, she has Mike and this kiss and it is enough. He is always enough. 

“Jesus Christ, you monsters, take a breath,” Dustin’s tinny voice calls from across the parking lot. 

Mike audibly groans against Jane’s lips and she stifles a laugh as Mike shoots Dustin the finger and promptly goes back to kissing her like no one had stumbled across them. Dustin makes a boorishly noise and Max’s velvety laughter joins Lucas’ as all their friends play tease Mike and Jane. Mike drops his head in Jane’s neck and she scratches the back of his head to help him relax whatever tension he is building in anger at their friends. She kisses the side of his mercifully and whispers, “Later.” 

He takes that as a promise, drops one more kiss on her mouth, and turns around to face their friends. He throws an easy arm around Jane, like they are perfect puzzle pieces. “Seriously?” he spits at Dustin. 

“Seriously,” Will jogs over to their friends. Then, he tacks on, “Wait, what am I serious about? What’s going on?”

“El and Mike were sucking face behind the gym….again,” Dustin helpfully supplies. 

Both Mike and Jane give Dustin the finger at the same time. She cuddles under Mike’s arm and he absently kisses the top of her head. She nearly purrs. Will makes a face and Jane meets her step-brother’s gaze unflinchingly. “Gross,” Will says. “Stop making out with my sister in broad daylight, Mike. Hopper is gonna kick your ass one of these days.” 

Mike pales, “He likes me.” 

“He doesn’t like you running your hands all over my sister,” Will points out. 

Lucas bends over with roaring laughter. Dustin snickers. Max rolls her eyes. And Jane can’t bring herself to mind because Mike’s hand slips down her arm and he laces their fingers together.

This, she thinks, this is what we fought for. This kind of unburdened laughter.


End file.
